


The Successors Subordinate

by Cage



Category: Death Note
Genre: Action/Adventure, Dark, F/M, M/M, Romance, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-02
Updated: 2014-11-02
Packaged: 2018-02-23 10:03:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2543543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cage/pseuds/Cage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Rica finds herself with no where left to turn she calls up a family member that may be able to help. When really shes finding his way of helping may only hurt. Along with training to become the next W Rica also finds that her father, whom she thought was deceased may be walking around London. At the same time she meets a blond with a temper and an albino with seemingly no heart. When push comes to shove can she let go of her past and look towards her future the next successors subordinate or will she turn her back on the ones she loves to find someone she's never met?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Who?

Empty. They were so empty. All of le light that once shine through her mothers electric green eyes was now gone. Instead it has been replaced with the dull look of death. They were large, frozen in fear from her attackers, who have left now some time ago. I knew I should do something, but I could not bring myself to look away from my mother's lifeless orbs. The used to be so full of emotion, happiness, joy, love, pain and guilt. All these things she would never again feel; the numbness spreading in my chest suggested neither would I. My knees gave out, landing me in a pool of sticky, drying blood. How long did I hide? How long have I been standing here? I Pulled myself to my feet, the white dress that my mother had given me now stained with a brownish red color. I walked to the phone and picked it up. My small fingers dialed a number I knew well, not because I had ever called it, but because my mother made me recite it to her every day. She said it would put me in contact with someone that would help in case of an emergency. I do believe this is an emergency.

 

It rang once, then twice, and it began to ring a third time when someone answered.

 

“Hello?” his voice was deep and monotone, but there was the slightest hint of curiosity in his voice. He repeated himself. I took a deep breath.

 

“Hello, my name is Rica and I need to talk to my grandfather hi name is Quillsh Wammy. Do you know where I can speak to him Mr?” My voice was calm and high pitched, but that may be because im only 10. The man on the line was silent for longer than he should have been before replying.

 

“Yes, one moment.” then it was quiet again, but only for a second, before another voice spoke to me.

 

“Hello, this is Quillsh speaking, may I ask who this is?” His voice sounded old and had a deep british accent, I know this because I watch a lot of BBCA.

 

“Hi, My name is Rica Keller, well actually its Rica Wammy, if you want to get technical. anyway long story short you impregnated my grandmother, Rebecca Keller, and she had a daughter. Her daughters name was Savanna Keller and she had me. That makes you my grandfather. I probably should also mention that currently my lovely mother is lying dead next to the coffee table. any questions?” I said that very quickly and drew in a breath at the end. Mother did say that at times I can be a little to blunt, but i didn't feel like sitting here for an hour….more. the man cleared his throat.

 

“Just one, where are you chilled?” His tone was calm and even, not even a little shaken by the sudden appearance of a new family member. I gave him my address and he said he would come to pick me up and not to move a muscle, I agreed and we hung up. I thin walked upstairs to my room and packed a small bag of belongings, another thing Quillsh had asked me to do. I also changed out of the blood soaked dress and tights. I put on a pair of tight pants, they were black and had red embroidery on the back pockets. I then put on a red blouse that hugged at the small amount of curves I have so far developed. For foot where I decided on some shiny black boots that went a little past my ankles, I laced them carefully, taking my time. Quillsh said I had a while to wait and I didn't want to think of my mothers bod lying just below me. I then pulled out a dark gray Pea coat and put it on. Quickly pulling a brush through my mahogany, brown hair I then went to my mothers room.

 

Inside was her bed and a large dresser. The window above my mothers bed had the curtains pulled back, showing the gray colors of early morning Seattle. the smell of my mother filled the room. She smelled like cinnamon and pine trees. On a nightstand there was an old photo of her. It was of her and my father on a nature hike at the Redwoods. When I was younger I would sneak in here and talk to the picture and pretend my father was talking back. My mother saw me doing this once, she had cried and wouldn't look me in the eyes for two days, I never spoke to the picture again. Now though I pulled it out of its frame and truly looked at it. Really looked. Everyone who knew my father told me I looked like him. He had dark brown, almost black hair, emerald blue eyes shone behind messy bangs. He was tall and thin, he had been a cop, though my mother never talked about that much. He was killed when undercover by a drug dealer and his cronies. I folded the picture and put it in my pocket.

 

I then curled up on my mothers bed smothering my face in her pillow, a few tears leaked from my eyes, but soon exhaustion took over and I fell into a restless sleep. My dreams that night were dark, full of death and destruction, and empty electric green eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

It is the evening of December 12 and I will soon be meeting with a stranger who will take me away. Or, at least I hope so. I have been laying on my mothers bed for quite some time now; having woken up an hour or so before. My mind is blank, though every once in a while I invasion my mothers corpse. the unanimated remainder of her being. Who were those people? Why would they want to hurt us? I will ask my grandfather when he arrives; though I will not be getting my hopes up for any kind of direct answers. If there's one thing I have learned from my mother, no one is to be trusted. I open my eyes and look at the comforter underneath me, Its gray with red flowers embroidered upon it I then close my eyes again, feeling dizzy.

There's a strange feeling in my chest; no,its not a feeling, its more like a numbness, the ultimate lack of emotion. Im holding onto this "feeling" as tightly as I can, chaining myself to this lack of emotion for my on safety, for my sanity. I know beyond any reasonable doubt that if I do not cling to this numbness, there will be no turning back for me. I must always keep these new found walls arounf my emotions, not to keep others out, but to keep myself in; otherwise I may slip away. A darkness has found its way to my mind, andI have been contemplating it for a while now. A small seed of wrath has planted itself in my mind, deep beyond ant thought my yong mind has gone before. They must pay. The people who have done this will feel all the pain and hurt I should be feeling. I will make them regret the dat they first drew breath on this Earth. I do not yet know how, but it will happen.

A knock came to the door, drawing me back from this deep, cold part of my mind. My heart raced. Could this be those monsters whom destroyed my life? Or could it be the strangers coming to try and put it back together. The knock came again, steady and deep reeningh off the walls of my silent home. I walked out of my mothers room, stopping to pick up my bag that I had left on my own bed. I then crept Silently down the stares. Drawn to the gruesome site, my eyes traveled to where my mothers body lay, bloody and pale. I Stealthily made my way to the door, making sure to avoid any windows, where as I might be seen. I then looked through the looking whole in the door to see who has approached my treacherous abode. Standing alone on the porch was an old man. He knocked again. I wade my options; stay here and be sure that this man is not the one who came to harm my mother and I previously, or open the door and face whatever danger may be thrown at me fully and without protection. Part of me, the small part that still held some childish reasoning in it told me to hide, call the police, even if my mother said that that is something I never should do. but this new found part of me spoke louder. The part of me that has been forged from these ashes I have been left with. I will face whatever comes at me with cold hard logic and a ferocity to achieve my goal, the eradication of my mothers killers.

Just as he went to knock again I pulled open the door. The elderly man stood about two and a half feet taller than I. He wore expensive looking clothes, a black and white suit. He gave off the impression of kindliness, but the skepticism of others I have been raised with kept me on guard. The aroma that came off him also seemed like something a wealthy man would where, unlike the burning stench of a cheep knock off brand, this was rather pleasant.

"Should I assume that you are Rita?" He had the same deep English accent that I heard on the phone, I let out a breath I didn't realize I had been holding. His green eyes regarded me more like old friends than long lost relatives. They shone brightly behind a pare of round spectacles. Those eyes. My eyes. My mothers eyes when they still held life looked exactly lick though, but somehow he seem; more welcoming.  
I nodded my head in answer to his question and steped to the side.

"Come look," My voce betrayed no real emotion. I sounded like a dull teacher, one of the boearing ones who only spoke in monotone. I also left him no real choice in the matter, this was his daughter, and she deserved to be in his presence at least once, deceased or not. Quillsh walked past me into the living room, directly in the center lay my mother. He walked over to her and clears his thought. Perhaps he thought it would not be so violent? Blood spatter could be seen all around the room, sinking into the dark wood flowers and staining any surrounding furniture. She didn't go down without a fight. Scratches covered her arms and deep purple bruises covered her skin. Her death was not made quick, that much was obvious. Quillsh turned on his heel and walked quickly from the room, hiding his face as he went. I followed silently, observing his reaction. He didn't seem morning so much as surprised at the violent display. He led me to a cat. Small and black, it shone under the almost afternoon light. He held open the back seat door form me, I hesitated momentarily, but at this point I had very few other choices. I clambered in putting my bag on the floor bored next to my feet. the warmth of the car sheltered me from the bitter cold of early December. That's when I noticed a pare of feet next to mine, and they were bare.

I looked up to the face that sat no more than a foot from me. He had dark messy hair and wide dark eyes, they held a certain chilled like curiosity, but at the same time gave the impression he didn't really care all that much. Unlike Quillsh he was not dressed exuberantly in wealthy attire, but wore only a baggy white long sleeve and a pare of baggy jeans. I found this odd considering the current weather, but didn't care enough to ask. his eyes were looking into my face and he tilted his head to the side, like a curious puppy. Examining his features closer I realized he was not much older than myself, he looked maybe fourteen at most, the dark bags under his eyes made him look a little older than his age. He turned away from me to look out the window. My grandfather dearest started the car and pulled away from the curb.

I didn't look back, not once. No tears came to my eyes like I am sure that they should have, nothing really bothered me much about my current situation now that I was out of that house. Only one thing stayed on my mind, curiosity. So I turned to the boy sitting next to me, it would be a shame to pull him out of his current reverie, not really, I'm positive he could deal with it.

"who are you?" again my voice stayed even and flat. The boy turned to look at me and said only one word, well not a word exactly.

"L," and that was all. By his voice I made the assumption he was the one who had answered the phone at first. His one letter response just fed my curiosity, but I left it at that. Quillsh put on some old kind of music, just a piano. Disobeying one of the most basic rules my mother taught me, rules of survival, I relaxed around theses strangers. My eyelids grew heavy and though I had just slept mentally I felt drained. Before I drifted to sleep I glanced to the boy next to me, he was looking at me again, his knees pulled to his chest he took a bight from a cookie. Then I fell into unconsciousness.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey hit me up if you like it. I don't update if I don't know people are reading it!  
> *cage*


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